


some basic decency

by katrinawritesthings



Category: SHINee
Genre: Brotp, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 10:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10683798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrinawritesthings/pseuds/katrinawritesthings
Summary: college au where taem wakes up with a panic attack in jong's bed bc he doesn't remember last night“Panic attack,” Taemin says shortly. Jonghyun hums in acknowledgement. Ahh. Okay. He can work with that.“Is me talking making it better or worse?”“Worse,” Taemin replies immediately.tumblrtw for alcohol, anxiety, slight emetophobia, and slight mentions of sexual assault





	some basic decency

Jonghyun wakes up to shuffling next to him, quick movements and loud breaths. He scrunches his face, displeased at being roused from the nice flying dream he was having. Who the fuck is in his bed with him and making so much noise. He tries opening his eyes, but one is gummed shut with sleep and the other concludes that it’s way too fucking bright in this room and snaps right back shut. He needs to stop forgetting to close the curtains at night. **  
**

Instead of looking at his bed intruder, he tries to think back to last night. He was at Krystal’s little dorm party, the one that was mostly beer and Mario Kart and progressively bad karaoke (except for Jinki, who somehow got progressively better with each can). Jonghyun didn’t have any because he’s found that lately when he gets drunk he cries _way_ too much. He’s sure if he retraces his steps he’ll have no problems remembering who he came home with.

He was slouched on the couch at first; then more people showed up and demanded space, so he moved to go stand by the potted fern in the kitchen and talk to Luna for a little bit about their musical rehearsal coming up. Then Minho showed up, and Jonghyun had to aggressively boot someone off of the couch again so he could wreck the tall asshole on Rainbow Road. And then, after they both lost abysmally to Kyuhyun and some other asshole Jonghyun had never seen before in his life, they’d parted ways with swears of revenge like usual. And then Jonghyun had wandered down the hallway to go pee, and then when he came out lowkey sniffing the mango soap smell on his hands, he found--

Taemin. Aha. He knew he would remember. He smiles at his accomplishment, but then it turns into a frown when he remembers exactly _how_ he found Taemin the night before. Drunk, _wasted_ , hair ruined, eyes red rimmed and hands shaky as he huddled against the wall away from everyone else. A fucking mess.

“Tae,” he says, keeping his eyes closed. He hears a sharp intake of breath and a heavy shuffle of the blankets; he thinks Taemin might have flinched away from him. Whoops. “You okay?” he asks gently. There are several more shaky breaths, and then:

“N-no,” Taemin says. Jonghyun nods. He figured.

“Not okay in what way?” he asks. Hungover, still crying, blackout memory.… Jonghyun can’t help if he doesn’t have some kind of guideline.

“Panic attack,” Taemin says shortly. Jonghyun hums in acknowledgement. Ahh. Okay. He can work with that.

“Is me talking making it better or worse?”

“Worse,” Taemin replies immediately. Jonghyun grimaces, but nods silently. He’ll keep his mouth closed. He wiggles further towards the edge of the bed too, further away from Taemin, and keeps his eyes closed as he nuzzles his pillow. He just listens; listens to Taemin’s sad attempts to regulate his breathing, his short, pitchy gasps, the constant rustling like he’s rubbing his hands over his arms and through his hair. That goes on for at least a few minutes before everything suddenly stops completely. That confuses Jonghyun; he frowns, Taemin hisses out a sharp “ _fuck,_ ” and Jonghyun finally cracks open his eyes in the middle of louder rustling that makes the bed shake.

He just gets a glimpse of Taemin shooting to the bathroom door and yanking it open before he understands very suddenly. He has his fingers in his ears and his head under the covers just in time, he thinks, _just_ right at the beginning of the first throaty retch from the bathroom. He breathes deep and loud just in case, trying not to think of Taemin. He doesn’t even want to conjure up some pity for the poor dude’s situation because then he’ll have to think about what he’s doing right now. He thinks of kitties instead, fluffy cute kitties swishing their little kitty tails.

After what feels like six or seven minutes of him staying curled in the same position, he feels the bed dip again. He takes his fingers out of his ears cautiously and peeks out of the covers; Taemin is sitting up straight, eyes watery, hair messed, face miserable. His hands are still gripping at his forearms and his breath is still coming up short. Jonghyun straightens out to his back anyway.

“Better a little?” he asks. Taemin winces away from his voice, but nods shortly.

“Nausea w-wise, yes--yeah, yes,” he gets out. “Ev-verything else, no.” Jonghyun nods again to acknowledge the answer. He’ll stay quiet for longer, until Taemin is ready for more words. He tries to regulate his own breathing in the hopes that maybe it’ll help Taemin even his out. He’s not sure if it works or not, but after a few more minutes, Taemin speaks again.

“What,” he says, and then swallows loudly. Jonghyun turns from looking at the ceiling to looking at him. He’s staring at the far wall, eyes wide and scared. “What, h-happened to--to me, last night? How did I get here?” Oh. Jonghyun takes a moment to collect his thoughts before answering, but not so long that Taemin starts to panic even more.

“I found you,” he says, as calmly as he can, “in the hallway outside of the bathroom. Super wasted and shaky. And I asked if you were okay, but you were crying to much to answer.” He tugs one of his pillows to hold in his arms as he speaks. “I called Kibum, but he wasn’t answering. So I tried looking in your phone, but it was dead, and I don’t know any of your other friends, so. I asked if it was okay if I took you back to my dorm, because I don’t know where yours is and I didn’t want to just _leave_ you there, you know?” They might not be the best of friends, but they have hung out a few times and enjoy each others’ company in their Wednesday composing class. He knows he was the person Taemin trusted the most at that party.

“And you agreed, so I kind of half carried you from Krystal’s building to this building. And got you in bed, and I was honestly gonna go sleep on the couch, because--” He stops himself from telling Taemin that he smelled awful, like sweat and booze. Not the most comforting detail. “Because I wanted to leave you alone,” he says. “But you grabbed me and clung to me and begged me to stay. So I did.” He turns to his side so he can keep looking at Taemin without hurting his neck. “And now we’re here.” They’re here, one of them still having a panic attack and the other feeling kind of like a dick for being too sleepy to react with more emotion. Taemin’s forearms have faint little nail marks if Jonghyun squints and his breathing still isn’t any better.

“A-and,” he stammers. “And you didn't--I-I--not--we didn’t--have--?”

“No,” Jonghyun says firmly. “I didn’t. We slept. _Just_ slept.”

“Are--are you s-sure we--”

“Yes,” Jonghyun says. “I promise.” He turns to his other side, picking up first Taemin’s phone that he let charge overnight, and then his phone that he put on powersave mode so it wouldn’t die. “I was texting Jinki it all,” he says. “You can read what I told him about taking care of you.” He holds both phones out; Taemin takes both with trembling hands. “Sorry if you didn’t want anyone else to know, but. Narrating stuff to Jinki helps with my memory problems. I didn’t say your name.”

Taemin stays silent as he scrolls through Jonghyun’s phone. His fingers shake, and Jonghyun sees him hit the back button more than once to fix accidental clicks. There’s a quick moment where he scrunches up his face and frowns, unsure as to what he was texting Jinki before he found Taemin; when he can’t remember, he shrugs it off. It’s unlikely to be anything embarrassing, and it’s unlikely that Taemin will look far passed what he needs. After a minute, Taemin exhales deeply and hands Jonghyun back his phone. He still hasn’t looked at him once.

Jonghyun turns to plug his phone into the charger and when he turns back, Taemin has his phone on and a little breathing app open. He watches Taemin stare at the moving circle, watches him struggle to match his breathing to the animation. He’s glad that Taemin knows how to take care of himself. His eyes drift shut as he waits for Taemin to relax. He thinks he’s actually somewhere halfway back to sleep when it happens: one final, heavy, obvious breath.

“Thank you,” Taemin says quietly. Jonghyun cracks his eyes open again. Taemin is finally looking at him, not smiling, but with gratitude in his eyes. Jonghyun gives him the smallest smile in return. Good. This is good.

“Do you want breakfast?” he asks. Food always helps him after he cries his way through stress. Taemin hesitates, then shakes his head, one hand coming to rest on his stomach.

“Now right now, but. Do you. Do you have, like, crackers?” he asks. “Plain bread? Generic cereal?”

“One of those, probably,” Jonghyun shrugs. He can find some gentle food for Taemin to nibble on later, when he feels up to it. “And water bottles.”

“Okay,” Taemin breathes. “Okay.” Jonghyun watches his hand come up to run through his hair. It gets caught in a tangle and he grimaces, reaching back with his other hand as well to try to fix it. He looks… really pretty like that. Simple and natural. A hungover, anxiety-ridden mess, yeah, but still pretty. Jonghyun clutches his pillow closer to him.

“Would this be a bad time,” he starts, but then changes his mind and stops. He doesn’t need to bother Taemin with his maybe ten percent crush. It’ll just stress him out more. Taemin still turns to him, a little pout on his lips.

“Hmm?” he asks, but Jonghyun shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he mumbles. Taemin’s frown grows even more, teeth nibbling on his lower lip.

“Would this be a bad time for what?” he asks. Jonghyun thinks he hears a slight breathiness to his voice again. Frick. He’s stressed him out anyway. He squeezes his pillow as he tries to think up a good lie.

“If,” he says. “If I really had to go pee?” Huh. Nice save. It’s not even a lie. Taemin blinks at him, and then shakes his head.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles. “It’s your dorm.” He turns his attention back to his hair. Jonghyun nods, rubs crust from the corners of his eyes, and pushes himself out of bed. He shuffles to the bathroom; when he smells the familiar scent of the air freshener spray he breathes a sigh of relief. Thank fuck. He does his business, washes his hands, and leans against the doorframe when he’s done, surveying Taemin as he tracks his breathing with his phone some more.

“You can use the shower if you want, too,” he says. He points behind him into the bathroom when Taemin looks up. “Just don’t use the old spice bodywash. My roommate gets all huffy about it.” Jonghyun only used a tiny drop once and he’s never heard the end of it.

“Oh,” Taemin says. “Okay.” He pushes the covers off and slides out of the bed. Jonghyun moves to slip passed him and to his dresser; Taemin catches him gently by the arm. “And, um,” he says. “Thank you. For all of this. Really.” He squeezes Jonghyun’s arm and gives him this deep, serious look that conveys more emotions than Jonghyun can count. He nods, hoping his eyes are saying the same thing.

“You’re welcome,” he says.


End file.
